Long Way Yet Before The End
by Mittelosian
Summary: This is the Island, people! Did you really think the danger was over?
1. Chapter 1 - Loose Ends

He lowered the convertible top of the 1967 Mustang, eager to feel the rush of warm wind through his dirty blond hair as he sped down I-95. The car was the one extravagance he allowed himself from the money. For the most part it was honest money, and now that he had it, he was determined to make it last. No more cons. No more quick scores on the backs of the gullible. It took the better part of a lifetime, but James Ford was finally going straight.

The roads were pretty clear for a late Friday afternoon. James had been through Florida many times in his life, it being close to his home state of Alabama. _One day, I'm gonna run into someone I took advantage of. That might not be pretty. _No, he was sure that all the good works he was determined to do from now on wouldn't matter much if the past came angrily calling.

"Maybe some music," he muttered as he punched the CD button on the stereo. He had come upon a small suburb of Miami when the strains of Bob Marley's "Redemption Song" started wafting through the speakers. James's thoughts traveled back a few years to a doomed seafaring voyage he'd undertaken with new friends, two of which were no longer among the living. Tears began to form in his eyes, but he donned his sunglasses, telling himself it was the just the wind that was making him well up.

"SSSSSSS!" A loud hissing noise came from the Mustang's engine compartment, followed by a sickly grinding sound. Steam, and possibly smoke began to seep from under the hood.

"Son of a bitch!" James exclaimed. He turned off the CD player and began scouting the area for a place to get off the road. Up ahead about a quarter mile, he spied a service station. He carefully pulled in and parked in an available space. He needed a mechanic. Instantly his mind drifted back to what seemed a lifetime ago.

* * *

"**_James!" Juliet yelled. "You home?" Juliet Burke closed the door behind her and walked into the living room. The smell of Italian food wafted through the house._**

"**_Right here, Blondie!" came a voice from the kitchen. James Ford, aka James LaFleur greeted her with a giant hug and kiss._**

"**_Mmm…careful," she said. "I'm covered in grime." Indeed she was, her Dharma Motor Pool jumpsuit was about the filthiest it had ever been._**

"**_What the hell happened?" James said, grinning._**

"**_One of the vans overheated on a trip back from the Flame," she said as she grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water from the tap. "Jin and Miles had to go out and bring some personnel back in, and then had to walk back out to the van and push it to the motor pool." She took a long steady sip. "I opened the engine compartment door and the engine basically vomited a ton of oil and grease on me. Good thing I wasn't looking right at it."_**

"**_Well, why don't you go ahead and get yourself a shower," James said. "I took off a little early today and made us dinner. It'll be ready when you get out."_**

"**_What would I do without you?" Juliet smiled, kissing James one more time before walking away down the hall, peeling off her filthy clothes as she went._**

"**_What are you thinking about?" James asked. Juliet lifted her head off his chest and smiled._**

"**_Really?" Pale moonlight fought bravely to filter through the slats in the window blinds, shining off her eyes._**

"**_What?"_**

"**_You are so evolved," she said. _**

"**_What do you mean?"_**

"**_Usually," she said as she lifted up and rested on one elbow, "it's the girl who asks that question in bed. You know, in your basic romantic movie."_**

"**_Well this ain't no movie," James replied, planting a kiss on her forehead. _**

"**_Feels like one sometimes."_**

"**_You didn't answer my question."_**

"**_I was thinking about Rachel," Juliet said._**

"**_Your sister," James said._**

"**_My sister. What if we're stuck here in this time, James? I haven't seen Rachel in over three years, and I've never even met my nephew. Hell, I'm just a kid back home right now, if I even exist at all."_**

"**_You're startin' to sound like Miles," James said. "Thank God you don't look like him."_**

"**_I'm serious," Juliet sniffed, holding back tears. "I love you James, I really do, but we don't belong here, now."_**

"**_I know babe," he said. "If there's a way to get back, I'll find it. Things you and I have seen on this Island tell me, it ain't outside the realm of possibility."_**

"**_Until then" she said, "I can't complain too much about the way things have worked out. Good night." Juliet planted a soft kiss on James's lips and eased back down to go to sleep._**

* * *

"That's not a good sign," the man said. James looked up to see a disheveled man of about sixty years in a raggedy jumpsuit approaching him and his smoking Mustang.

"Tell me something I don't know," James said. "I think it's the water pump."

"Oh yeah?" the man said, wiping his hands on a rag.

"Yeah. A friend of mine was a grease monkey. Taught me a thing or two."

"Well," the man said, "open her up and let's take a look. Name's Jack."

"James," James said, smiling to himself. The two shook hands. Jack leaned over and gazed at the engine. "Your friend taught you well," he said. "Definitely the water pump." He rubbed his hands together. "And definitely not something I have in stock. Not for an old pony like this." He coughed loudly.

"How long would it take to get one? James asked him.

"I could get one out here tomorrow mid-morning," Jack said. "Get you fixed up in no time." Jack motioned for James to follow him to the office. It was a small place, with just a soda machine, a few snacks and a rack of cigarettes behind the counter. Definitely old school, and not one of the convenience store gas stations that seemed to be popping up everywhere.

"There a hotel nearby?" James asked.

"Must be a couple dozen in the area," Jack replied. He opened up an old, tattered Yellow Pages volume from behind the counter and opened it up to the hotels section. "Take your pick."

James found an acceptable location within walking distance and agreed to meet the old man the next day.

James cracked open the mini-bar and opened a cold beer. _It's only money_, he thought when regarding the exorbitant price list on the door. He sat on the reclining chair in his suite and clicked on the TV. He was both dreading and looking forward to his next day's task. _How's she gonna take it?_ He wondered. The television offered the same list of channels as any other major hotel chain. News, sports, reruns, HBO. James flicked around the line-up, barely paying attention when something caught his ear.

"Whatever happened to these two men, it certainly strains credulity to think they survived one airplane crash together only to disappear on another plane a few years later," said the female voice on the TV. James perked up. "Not only that, Mina," another voice piped in, "but some other members of the Oceanic Six have also since disappeared."

"Oh what the hell?" James said."

"Sayid Jarrah and Sun-Hwa Kwon," the voice continued, "both passengers on the ill-fated flight out of Sydney Australia in 2004, have not been seen since around the same time as the disappearance of Ajira Flight 316 some three years later. This is no coincidence." The speaker was a bespectacled man in his early thirties. James clicked the INFO button on the remote control.

"Modern Mysteries," he said, grumbling. "What the hell is this?"

"I have to agree with you on that, Brent," the host, a woman named Mina replied. "Either these people are up to something, or they are all members of the same bad luck club. As our viewers know, Dr. Jack Shephard was a renowned surgeon from Los Angeles who crashed along with three hundred and twenty-three other passengers aboard Oceanic Flight 815. Of those three hundred and twenty four souls, only six survived. And now four of them are once again, missing. Thank you Brent. Brent Hutton, reporting from Los Angeles. And that's where we'll leave it tonight folks," Mina said. "Join us again next Tuesd-"

"Son of a bitch," James whispered as he shut off the program. He lifted his beer in a toast towards the television screen. "Up yours, Mina."

* * *

**_The late afternoon Albuquerque sun was setting as James Ford rinsed off a plate in his kitchen. He was renting a very nice house on the outskirts of the city, not comfortable with the idea of planting permanent roots, no matter how enticing the idea. All he wanted was to be near his daughter, now that Cassidy had finally let him back into their lives, in whatever slowly expanding way she felt was appropriate. Clementine was gorgeous, just like her mother, and James could see plenty of himself in her face. He just wanted to make sure she turned out to have a better life—to be a better person- than he ever was. There was a knock on the door. This was a surprise, as besides Cassidy and Clem, no one really knew James was here. _**

**_James opened the front door and nearly fell over in surprise._**

**_"Dude!" the beefy man on the porch said. "How's it goin'?" He rushed in and picked James up in a giant bear hug._**

**_"Hugo?!" James shouted. Hugo Reyes set him down. "I'll be damned! You made it! Come on in, man! How'd you get off that rock?"_**

**_"Turns out it isn't that hard," Hugo replied. "Kind of a magic trick. It can be done, just takes a little work."_**

**_"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," James said, gesturing to the sofa, "but have a seat. Getcha a beer?"_**

**_"No thanks," Hugo said. As he sat, he set a large manila envelope on the sofa next to him. "How're things with your daughter, dude?"_**

**_"How'd you know about that?" James asked. "For that matter, how'd you find me? Another magic trick?"_**

**_Hugo smiled. "Kind of," he replied._**

**_"Last I saw, you were headed back inland as the island was fallin' apart. Hey, what happened to the doc?"_**

**_"He didn't make it," Hugo said sadly. "He died…saving the island…saving everyone, really."_**

**_"Damn it," James said. "I was hoping he would have some kind of island mojo, like Jacob, some kind of healing or immortality power."_**

**_"It was too late," Hugo said. _**

**_"So who's runnin' things now? Anyone still on the island?"_**

**_"Ben's there, sort of…lookin' over things. Rose and Bernard are still living in their little beach shack with Vincent. Oh, and Walt! We got him back too."_**

**_"Wait," James said. "Mike's kid? He's back? And what do you mean 'we got him back?' Who's we?"_**

**_"Me and Ben," Hugo said. "Before he…you know, Jack made me the new protector. The new Jacob I guess, or at least the new Jack."_**

**_"No kiddin'," James said. "Wait. You tellin' me you're still livin' there? You're still on that damned rock?"_**

**_"Yep," Hugo said. "Somebody's gotta run the place, protect it. It's a lot different now. No big black smoke…thing flying around killing people. We're taking care of some things that need to be done."_**

**_"You're…taking care of some things?" James asked._**

**_"It's hasn't really been happy work," Hugo said. "A lot of people died. We found Jack, gave him a funeral. And a whole bunch of other people on the other Island too. People from the second flight."_**

**_"Wait. Back up. You left Ben in charge?"_**

**_"I know dude, I know," Hugo said. "But he's different now. He's...good? I don't know. Not bad or evil anyway. He's been a lot of help, setting things right." Hugo picked up the envelope. "And that…is what I'm doing here." He handed the envelope to James. "I have a little job for you. Might not be pleasant at first, but it's something you're gonna want to do."_**

**_James opened the envelope and looked inside. Hugo smiled, recognizing the astonishment on the other man's face._**

**_"Where'd you get these?" James asked._**

**_"Like I said. We've been cleaning up. Got those out of the Dharma barracks."_**

**_"And this?" James held up an unlabeled DVD disc. "This sure as hell wasn't in Dharmaville."_**

**_"I had it transferred for you," Hugo replied. "I didn't figure you had a VHS player."_**

**_"What's on it?"_**

**_"You'll see. I think you'll like it. And you aren't the only one."_**

**_"And all these…" James said, looking in the envelope. "Some of them I recognize as mine. The rest?"_**

**_"Part of the clean-up process. Found them in other buildings, the office. You should see the place now. The Dharma buildings are all spruced up, almost like a resort. You should, you know, come check it out sometime."_**

**_"Are you out of your mind?" James snapped back. "No way in hell I'm ever settin' foot back on that rock, Hugo. I don't care if you got casinos with endless beer and showgirls."_**

**_"Well," Hugo sighed. "Things change, dude. And if you ever change your mind, or even if you just want to reach me for some reason, call the number on the piece of paper in there," he said, pointing to the envelope. "Just…don't throw it out." _**

* * *

Breakfast was light; a couple eggs-scrambled, toast with butter, orange juice and coffee. As soon as he got back to America, James indulged in what he had been missing for years. Mainland food. Big heaping piles of meat and carbs; all the things he'd been denied on the Island. They barely got to enjoy the Dharma drops before the hatch blew up, all the perishable items had to go. Dharma barracks food in the 70s was better than fish and fruit, but not by a whole lot. Juliet could cook pretty well, and they had decent supplies brought in, but nothing beat a good old fashioned fat feast back home.

The big meals had to end at some point. James was well aware that his clothes were fitting a little more snugly than he'd liked. He didn't know what life off the island had in store for him, but he figured if he wanted to stick around and make the most of it, he'd be better off doing it in shape.

After breakfast he headed down to the hotel gym. These things were usually pretty barren; a couple treadmills, maybe some cable weight contraption in the corner. He climbed onto one of the two exercise bikes in the room and began pedaling. In addition to the bikes, there were the requisite treadmills, a couple ellipticals, a cable and plate weight system and a stairclimber. As hotel fitness centers went, this one was a bit above standard. It even featured individual TV screens mounted to each of the machines. That was one of the things that bothered him the most since returning; everybody was online on something. James remembered what it was like being on the island, especially back in the mid-seventies. People were forced to talk to each other, to make actual connections. None of this continual digital crap. A simple cellphone was all he had, and that was really only to stay in touch with Clementine.

As if on cue, his phone began vibrating in his pocket. Without stopping his pedaling, he fished the phone from his pocket and took the call.

"Hello," he said, matter-of-factly.

"It's me," said the female voice from the other end of the call.

"Cass," James said. He stopped pedaling and stood up off the bike. "Is everything okay? Somethin' wrong with Clem?"

"Nothing wrong," she replied. "She's fine. I want you to know…I didn't want to make this call, but I didn't really have many other choices."

"What do you mean?" James asked.

"I need some money," Cassidy said.

"Well hell, darlin'" James said. "All you had to do was say so."

"Don't try to turn on the charm. The money from Kate went to pay off the house, and we both agreed not to touch the money you put in Clem's bank account. It's just—"

"It's just what?"

"I don't want you to think that this is going to let you back into my life, that's all." She sighed. "You can be a daddy to your daughter, but that's as far as it goes."

"Well no kiddin'. If you recall, you sent me to prison. I think I know better than to mess around in your life anymore," James said.

"As long as we understand each other," Cassidy replied. "You say you're a changed man, and I'd like to believe that."

"Just tell me what you need," James replied, "and I'll get it to you."

"Well that's the other thing" she said. "I don't need much, but I don't want you helping me out by doing to someone else what you did to me."

"That's my past, Cass. I'm completely legit now. So just tell me how much money you need, and I'll get it to ya."

* * *

**_The flight had been, after a miraculous take-off, surprisingly smooth for the first half hour. James was anxious at first that the force that had kept boats and other craft from leaving the island would pull this plane back to that damned place as well. He needn't have worried. Whatever had kept folks from leaving before was having no such influence on them as they soared away. No, there was a whole new set of concerns. The plane was damaged, and wasn't carrying much fuel. How far could they go? _**

**_After about forty minutes of flying, during which no one said a word, Frank Lapidus emerged from the cockpit and approached the passengers._**

**_"I've got her on auto-pilot for a while," he announced. "I figure we need to talk." He stood in the aisle in a spot equidistant to everyone and spoke in a clear, loud voice so that he could be hear over the roar of the plane's engines. _**

**_"About five minutes ago," he continued, "we got far enough from those islands to restore radio contact. Now obviously we can't just land this bird anywhere we want. This plane disappeared a couple weeks ago, along with more passengers and crew than we currently have onboard. That would be pretty hard to explain. Unfortunately, we only have enough fuel to get to a handful of places._**

**_"We can't go to Guam. That is a United States territory and is almost entirely military. So we're heading to Saipan. I was able to get hold of a buddy of mine, works the tower at a small airport there. There's a disused back runway there where I can set this thing down. The tarmac is crap, so it'll be a rough landing. Nothing you folks haven't experienced before. He'll take care of ditching the plane. We'll make it, but then we have some work to do."_**

**_"What do you mean work?" Miles asked._**

**_"Obviously we can't just go about getting tickets on a flight stateside. Two of you are supposed to be dead," he said, looking first at James and then Claire. "One of you doesn't exist," he said gesturing towards Richard. "I have no idea what story you're gonna tell Kate, or you Miles. Hell, people probably think I'm dead too!" Lapidus exclaimed._**

**_"So we need identities," James said. "I can take care of that."_**

**_"That's what I was hoping for," Lapidus said. "How long you figure it'll take?"_**

**_"I'll need at least three, maybe four days," he replied. "We'll need to take pictures, and I'll need internet access to get the materials to a friend of mine. He can get us set up and overnight everything back to us."_**

**_"Sounds do-able," Lapidus said. "I'll have my friend get us a few hotel rooms, maybe borrow a laptop. Once we get the papers, we'll set up travel back to the U.S."_**

**_"We need to fly into a small hub, no major cities," Kate said. "I'm kind of infamous back home, or at least I was. I'm not supposed to leave California. I can't get recognized."_**

**_"All right," Lapidus said. "We should be landing in a couple of hours. I recommend you all try to get some rest if you can." He turned and went back to the cockpit._**

**_The passengers exchanged glances with each other. Claire and Kate leaned back and closed their eyes. Richard stared out the window. Miles got out of his seat and sat down by James._**

**_"Jim," he said. "You gotta minute?"_**

**_"What's on your mind, Enos?"_**

**_"What are you gonna do when we get stateside? What are your plans?"_**

**_"Well I hadn't really thought about it, Miles," he said sitting up in his seat. "Been kinda busy not getting' swallowed up by the earth, you know?"_**

**_"I get that." Miles said. _**

**_"What about you?"_**

**_"You're gonna think this is funny," Miles said. "But that whole time we were working for the D.I.? I was thinking if I ever get outta here, I'm gonna become a cop."_**

**_"A cop? You wanna walk a beat, Genghis? I thought you'd wanna keep doin' your commune-with-the-dead thing."_**

**_"Well," Miles said. "It would be easy enough to go back to that. But we ran Dharma security for three years. I kind of got a taste for it. I _****was****_thinking on making it a career."_**

**_"You _****were****_thinking about it?" James replied. "Not anymore?"_**

**_"That's kind of why I came over here to talk to you, Jim. Let you in on a little secret. You remember those two sad sacks you buried on the island? Nikki and Paolo?"_**

**_"Yeah, I do. What about em? Wait a minute. You talk to them? You know who killed 'em, don't ya?" James asked._**

**_Miles shifted a little in his seat. He carefully considered his next words. "Yes, I do."_**

**_"Well who was it, Enos? Speak up."_**

**_"Venomous spider," Miles replied. "They got bit by a deadly spider. But that's not why I'm bringing them up. Put out your hand."_**

**_"Put out my hand? What're you up to?"_**

**_"Just do it," Miles insisted. James extended his left hand, giving Miles a wary look. Miles dropped a handful of gorgeous, brilliant diamonds into James's palm._**

**_"Son of a bitch," James whispered. "What the hell'd you do? Dig up their corpses?" Miles nodded slightly._**

**_"Did you think I was gonna leave eight million dollars worth of diamonds lying in the dirt?"_**

**_"I guess," James said, swiveling his hands slightly to catch the gleam off the stones in the light of the window, "you don't _****need****_ to be a cop anymore. Or have any other job, huh?" He closed his fist around the gems and extended his hand over to Miles._**

**_"No," Miles said, pushing James's hand back. "Those are for you." James looked at Miles wide-eyed. "That's probably about three million dollars right there. I'm giving them to you."_**

**_"Why on earth are you doin' that?" James asked._**

**_"You saved my bacon more than a couple times back there, Jim. The whole LaFleur thing? Those were not trusting people in the D.I. There were some scary units there. Radzinsky, Phil. They'd just as soon killed us as helped us out. I figure I owe you."_**

**_"You don't owe me anything, Miles," James said. _**

**_"All the same, take 'em," Miles answered. "You deserve a good break in life for once. I've got plenty left over. Not taking no for an answer."_**

**_"Well hell, man. If you insist." James said placing the diamonds in his pants pocket._**

* * *

James put his cell phone back in his pocket and jumped back on the exercise bike. Cassidy hadn't needed that much. And James certainly had enough to cover the bill. He hated that she didn't trust him, but that was something that was going to have to be earned. Or at the least, she would have to learn to more pleasantly regard his presence when he did visit their daughter. As time went by, he was sure her scowls would turn to smiles or at least blank stares eventually.

After his workout, he headed back up to his room for a shower and gave ol' Jack the mechanic a call. The water pump had come in, and Jack was about halfway through putting it in at that very moment. James hung up, checked out of the hotel and headed over to the garage.

Ol' Jack was just finishing up under the hood when James approached.

"Havin' any problems with her?" he asked, setting down his duffel.

The old mechanic grunted and leaned over to regard James from the front of the car. His face was dirtier than the day before.

"I don't think so," he replied. "Wasn't sure at first they sent me the right part. Seemed a little big 'pon first look. Pretty sure I got her all ironed out though." Jack grabbed the rag that was hanging off his belt and wiped his hands. "Keys are in it," he said. "Go ahead and turn her over."

James threw his duffel bag in the back seat and sat down behind the wheel. He turned the key and the Mustang's engine roared to life. He nodded his head in quiet victory. He closed his eyes and relaxed for a moment. Jack closed the hood and approached the driver's side.

"It worked," he said.

James quickly turned his head to look at the man, the words familiar and stinging enough to grab his attention and break his reverie.

"What did you say?" He rasped.

"It worked," Jack repeated. "Everything looks good. Come on in and we'll sort out the paperwork." Jack turned and headed for the office. James shakily let out the breath he'd been holding. It had been eight months since Juliet died, but it seemed as vivid as yesterday, and every now and then something happened that took him right back to that horrible day on the island. He shut down the car and headed inside to pay for the repairs.

James gunned the Mustang up to sixty-five once he got back on I-95. Another fifteen minutes or so and he would arrive at his destination. _How would she take it? _He wondered. His mood grew somber. He was both dreading and looking forward to what he had to do next.

He arrived at the house and realized he didn't remember the last ten minutes. He was on autopilot, mind rambling from one thought to another, providing him with just enough presence and motor skill to operate the car and make the correct turns. _Weird how the brain can compartmentalize like that, _he thought.

He parked the car at the curb and reached to the back seat to retrieve the duffel. From it he withdrew the envelope Hugo had given him. He held it gingerly in his hands while he thought about the next step. He let out a bittersweet sigh, got out of the car and walked the brick steps up to the front door.

"This is for you, babe," he said quietly as he knocked on the door. He could hear someone approaching after a few seconds. The door opened.

"Hello?" A pleasant looking brunette answered the door. "Can I help you?" She asked.

"Uh, hi," James said. "Are you Rachel Carlson?"

"Who wants to know?" She said, eyeing him suspiciously. She looked down at the envelope in his hand. "What is that? A summons? Or if you're selling something-"

"No," James interjected. "I um, how do I put this? I knew your sister. Juliet. I was hoping I could talk to you about Juliet."

"Who the hell are you?" Rachel asked. Any trace of pleasantness evaporated from Rachel's face.

"My name is James LaFleur. I knew Juliet. She was the love of my life."

"You _knew_ her," Rachel restated. "Are you telling me she's dead? If that's what you came here to tell me, I pretty much figured that out after not hearing from her for so long."

"Yes she is," James said sadly. "Can I come in? I'd like to show you some things."

"I don't think so," Rachel replied. "I don't know you. How do I know you even knew her? I'm not in the habit of letting strange men into my home." She began to close the door. "I think you better leave."

"Wait!" James said. "Just, look at this." He opened the envelope and withdrew a yellowed and weathered Polaroid picture. He handed it to Rachel.

The picture was of James and Juliet sitting on a couch in one of the Dharma barrack houses. Rachel stared at it for a second and began to hand it back to James, when something in the photo caught her eye. She stared at it intently for a few seconds.

"Where'd you get this?" She asked.

"This was taken-" James said.

"I don't care when or where it was taken," she said angrily. She pointed to the picture, at one of the figures in the background. "This guy. Where is he?" James leaned over and looked at the photo.

"Who? Richard?" He asked. "I'm not sure where he is right now."

"Dr. Richard Alpert," Rachel replied. "You know him?"

"Doctor?" James asked. "I mean, yeah, I know him. I didn't know he was a doctor, but I know Richard."

"What else do you have in that envelope?" Rachel asked.

"More of the same," James said.

"I think you better come on in," Rachel said. She backed away from the door and gestured for James to come in. She led him to the living room and motioned for him to sit on the sofa.

"Would you like something to drink?" She asked, with a slightly impatient tone in her voice.

"No thanks," he replied. He reached into the envelope and pulled out several more pictures. He set the envelope on the ground and handed the photos to Rachel. She studied them for a while before finally speaking.

"Okay, you have a lot of pictures of my sister," Rachel said. "What is that supposed to mean to me? Does it prove you knew her? I suppose. I don't think the pictures are fakes. What is it you want from me?"

"Nothing!" James said. "I didn't come here to get anything. I just came here to talk to you about Juliet. About what she did. About how she-"

"So tell me about Richard Alpert," she said.

"Ms. Carson," he said. "Can I call you Rachel?" She nodded. "Rachel, I've come a long way to talk to you about Juliet. You sure you want to talk about Richard Alpert?"

"Damn right I do," she said. "That bastard took my sister from me. Six months, he said. Six months working in cutting edge science with his company. After she was gone a year, I started searching for him and his Mittelos Bioscience. I even went to Portland."

"Portland?"

"Yeah, Portland. The last time I saw Juliet, the day he took her away, she told me they were based in Portland. So I went there. And you know what I found? Nothing. There was no Mittelos Bioscience building there. There was no evidence of there ever having been one."

"I'm not sure I understand," James said.

"The building was empty. I even hired a private investigator to search these guys out. Nothing. Not even a trace," she said.

"I'm not surprised he didn't find anything," James offered.

"Why's that?"

"That's just the way these people are. Or were. I don't know. But if they really wanted Juliet to come to the island to work on their fertility problems, they would've done whatever it took to get her there. I know Alpert recruited her, but-"

"Island?" Rachel said. "What island?"

James leaned back and sighed. "You know what? If it's still on offer, I'll take that drink now. Beer, if you got it. And I suggest you get yourself one."

* * *

Rachel set her beer down and looked at the pictures once again. There were over a dozen, all taken with a Polaroid camera, all somewhat yellowed by time.

"1975. That's what you're telling me? 1975? Do you think I'm stupid?"

"I understand," James said. "If it hadn't happened to me, I'd think I was full of it too. But Rachel, it happened."

"Alpert took her to this mysterious island and this guy, this Linus character, he kept her there for three years until the island went back in time to the seventies? That's what you're saying?"

"Linus doesn't matter. It was his idea to bring her there, yeah. He was just trying to stop all the pregnant women from dyin'. Thought Juliet could help."

"Why are you doing this?" Rachel looked up with tears in her eyes. "I have to pick my son up from school in an hour, and I'm a mess! What do you want from me?!"

"Julian," James said. "Juliet was very touched that you named him that."

"With a little digging, anyone could have found out my son's name. Do you think that bolsters your case? Do you honestly think I believe all this crap?"

"Juliet told me his name. And it was Ben Linus that told her. She didn't even know if it was true. He wouldn't let her have any contact with you or anyone else while she was there. He was a diabolical son of a bitch, that one," James said.

"So this island jumps back to 1975 and takes you, Juliet and all these…Dharma people with it, right?"

"Sort of. It did a bit of a history tour before it stopped in 1975," James said.

"Whatever that means. And then Juliet set off a nuclear bomb that sent it back to last year, right? "Rachel said. "That's what you want me to believe."

"Look," James said. "I didn't come here to upset you. I thought you might want some…closure."

"How is this helping? I don't believe any of it!"

Okay," James said. "I completely understand that. I'll be out of your hair in a few minutes. Can I just play you somethin' on your DVD player over there? I promise I'll leave after that." Rachel waved dismissively in the direction of the entertainment center against the back wall.

"Go ahead," she said.

James placed the DVD Hugo had given him in the DVD player and pressed PLAY. A few seconds later, grainy video appeared on the TV screen. At first there was no sound, as the camera panned across what looked to be some kind of party. People dressed in beige jumpsuits walked around drunkenly, hugging each other, practically every one of them with a drink in their hand.

Sound came on abruptly, but it was hard to make out. The loud strains of some kind of classic rock and roll blared from a stereo somewhere in the room. The shaky footage focused in on two people, a man and woman in their mid-to-late thirties.

_"Horace? Amy? Any message you would like to record for posterity?"_ The unseen cameraman asked. The man identified as Horace spoke up.

_"Up yours, Paul!"_ He said, giggling. The woman elbowed him in the ribs. _"Ow!"_ Horace said. _"Okay, okay. Um, Happy New Year everybody!"_

_"Yes,"_ Amy shouted. _"Happy New Year and happy bicren- bicentennial!"_ She drunkenly added. The cameraman moved on, weaving his way through the party. Most of the footage was out of focus and the conversation was mostly unintelligible. Finally the camera focused on two people sitting in a corner on a small sofa.

"Oh my God," Rachel whispered.

_"Jim! Juliet!"_ The cameraman yelled. _"Say something to the folks back home! Send a message to the mainland!"_

Juliet looked up and smiled at the camera. She had a glass of champagne in her hand and was wearing a goofy looking party hat with "1976" spelled out in glitter across the front.

_"Happy New Year everyone!"_ She yelled. To her left, a somewhat more reserved James LaFleur sat, beer in hand.

"She's usually not like this," he said, laughing.

_"I want to send my love to everyone back home,"_ Juliet continued, _"including my baby sister. Or my big sister, but she's younger than me right now I think. I don't know! Happy New Year Rachel!"_

_"Jim,"_ the cameraman yelled, laughing, _"she is plastered!"_

James winced a bit and smiled weakly for the camera, shrugging his shoulders. The camera moved away and on to the rest of the party. A few seconds later, the footage stopped. James stood up and approached the television. He looked at Rachel. Her head was buried in her hands as she wept softly.

"Wait!" She said. "I'm gonna want to watch that again."

Several minutes later, a composed and calm Rachel Carlson sat opposite James LaFleur on her living room sofa. The puffy signs of her crying were starting to fade from her eyes.

"Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome," James replied.

"And you two…she…she was happy there?"

"I think she was, yeah."

"I appreciate you showing me this," she sniffed.

"It was the least I could do. If there's anything else you need, anything at all, you just let me know," James said.

"There is one thing," Rachel answered.

"Name it."

"Take me there," she said. "Take me to the island."

"No. No way," James said, standing up. He gathered up the photos and stacked them neatly on the coffee table in front of him. "That I can't do."

"You said _anything_," Rachel said.

"I know," he answered. "I thought maybe you might need some money, or might want me to tell the story to Julian. That's what I meant."

"You said anything," Rachel repeated. "I want to see where Juliet lived…and died. I want to see where she's buried." James stared at her sternly. He sighed, pulled his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. "Can I use your phone?" He asked.

"It's right over there," Rachel replied.

"Son of a bitch," James said.


	2. Chapter 2 - Sea Change

**Episode 2 – Sea Change**

**London, England – About 5 months ago**

Penelope Hume is having another restless night. It has been several days since Desmond disappeared from the hospital and young Charlie has barely stopped crying since. Every night has been an effort to soothe the precocious young boy into going to sleep. Tonight was especially bad. After calming him for what must have been the third or fourth time, he did drift off, mostly due to exhaustion. Penny did her best to follow suit. Two hours later and she was still staring at the ceiling.

She finally got to the edge of sleep when a loud rapping on the front door downstairs jolted her completely awake. She jumped out of bed and wrapped a robe around her shoulders. Before heading downstairs, she looked in on Charlie, who thankfully was still sound asleep. _Who the hell is it at this hour? _ Penny opened the door while simultaneously turning on the porch light. Her eyes widened as she found herself staring at Benjamin Linus.

"You!" She shouted. She violently slammed the door and began looking around for something, anything to protect herself with.

"Mrs. Hume?" Ben said from the porch. "I understand how you must feel but-"

"Penny!" Another voice shouted from outside. "Pen! It's okay. Open the door."

Penny gasped and opened the door. She felt slightly faint as she saw her husband Desmond leaning on Ben's shoulder. He was breathing heavily, visibly exhausted.

"Desmond!" Penny shouts. "Oh my God, Des!" Penny rushed out to the porch and ushered Desmond into the flat. Ben followed behind. She eased Desmond down onto the sofa in the sitting room and began smothering him with kisses. A few seconds pass and she stopped.

"Wait. What is he doing here?" She asked, pointing at Ben, who is sitting on the settee.

"It's okay Pen," Desmond said. "It's all okay now. Ben brought me home. He brought me home to you."

"Leave it to my father to do something horrible like that," Penny said. "Just another atrocity in a life full of them."

"I'm sorry, Penny," Des said. "I really am. About your dad that is. I know you and he weren't close, but-"

"It's fine Des," Penny said. "Like you said, we weren't close. At all. I didn't want him in my life; in ours. In Charlie's. And now he'll never be."

"If it makes any difference to you," Ben said," in the end I believe he was trying to atone for some of his mistakes." Penny looked up at Ben with a confused look on her face.

"And you? Is that what you're doing here? Are you _atoning_ now for threatening to kill me? For shooting Des?"

"I can only apologize, Mrs. Hume. I can't make you accept my apology, no matter how sincere it is. I am truly sorry for what I did to you and Desmond. He's a hero. Maybe soon he'll tell you about it." Ben rose from the settee. "As for me," he continued, "I have to get back. Hugo and I have a lot of work to do. Desmond, you have the phone I gave you?"

"I do," Desmond replied," but I don't know what you want me to do with it brotha."

"Maybe nothing," Ben replied. "Or you may get a call. It could be Hugo checking up on you. Just because you're off the Island, there's still a connection. And Hugo feels…responsible for you now. So if that phone rings, please answer. "

**Los Angeles – two days later**

Benjamin Linus sat alone in a rental car, listening to the hammering of raindrops on the windshield, gifts from a rare Southern California thunderstorm. He stared out the window, allowing his mind to drift back to the events on the Island mere days before. A sudden beeping from his wristwatch interrupted his daze. He pressed a button to turn off the alarm before picking up a cell phone and dialing a number. The phone rang seven times before it was answered on the other end.

"How'd it go?" The voice asked.

"As we expected," Ben replied. "They were confused but I answered a couple of their questions, gave them their severance packages."

"You think it was enough?"

"I think it was plenty," Ben said. "Very generous."

"And you're in L.A. now?"

"Yes I am," Ben answered. "I'll go have a talk with her and then fly back to The Elizabeth before heading back."

"Sounds good, dude," Hugo replied. "Don't forget, we need everything on that list."

"I won't forget, Hugo. Don't you forget to turn the jammer back on when we're done."

"Absolutely. I'll see ya in a couple days."

Ben terminated the call and placed the phone in his jacket pocket. The rain was not letting up; if anything it was pouring even harder. No stranger to torrential storms, Ben exited the car and made his way to the building across the parking lot. He opened the ornate double doors and entered the building. The room was empty save for one figure at the far end. Her back was turned, and she appeared to be heavily invested in a book. As he walked through the room, Ben noticed the only light was provided by dozens of votive candles, as the stained glass windows were providing little illumination due to the storm.

"Hello Eloise," he said.

Eloise Hawking looked up from her book and stared at the wall in front of her for a few seconds.

"Hello Benjamin," she replied, swiveling in her chair to regard him. "So it's you."

"I beg your pardon."

"You. You're here. You must be the one. I was not aware you were even in the running."

"Oh," Ben said. "No. I'm not. I wasn't. It's not me."

"Then what happened?" She asked.

"I don't really have time to discuss all that, Eloise," Ben said. "I can tell you that the danger is over. The Island is safe."

"Oh don't be naïve," she snapped. "The danger is _never _over. And the Island is _never_ safe. You of all people should be well aware of that."

"I wouldn't worry about it too much," Ben said. "There's a new man in charge. A fine man. A great one, probably. And he's tasked me with tying up a few loose ends. Which brings me to the reason I'm here."

"And what would that be?"

"Did you ever ask yourself Eloise, _why_ the Island was in danger?" Ben sat down on a pew bench. "I'm not sure I know what you mean," she said.

"The Island was always in danger because people kept finding it. There was always a possibility that someone would search and search until they found it. And as part of the new regime, we are going to eliminate as many of those possibilities from happening. This station, for example."

Eloise's heart sank.

"You're going to destroy my church?" She pained.

"Only what's beneath it," Ben answered. "The coordinates this station sends out aren't going anywhere anymore. The Guam depot has been shuttered. But the _possibility_ of the Lamp Post still _finding_ the coordinates…that still exists."

"What am I to do then?" Eloise asked, tearing up. "This place has been my life for over twenty-five years."

"You're welcome to come back to the Island with me if you wish," Ben said. " I have a crew coming in here in two hours to disassemble the pendulum and remove all the equipment."

"Go back? Back to the place where I sent my own…" her voice trailed off. Ben regarded her sympathetically. "No. I cannot go back. That place has brought me nothing but pain. And shame."

"Very well. I'm afraid as much as I'd like to chat, I must take my leave. Goodbye Eloise," Ben said. "If you change your mind," he handed her a piece of paper. "Call this number."

**Aboard the yacht "Our Mutual Friend" – present day**

Desmond shuddered and woke with a start. Another nightmare, the details quickly fading. As much as he would like to remember the dreams that plague him, something in him told him he is better for not knowing. He sighed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, rising to greet the day. He could hear the gentle lapping of the sea against the hull outside his stateroom window, along with the happy sounds of mother and child playing up on deck. Des quickly dressed and headed up the stairs.

"Morning," he said to Penny. She sat at a table facing the ocean, sipping at a cup of tea. She was, as always, beautiful, but today as the sun shines on her golden hair, Des was taken with how exquisitely gorgeous is wife looked on this day.

"Morning," she replied. He grabbed her hand and kissed her neck gently.

"Hi Daddy," Charlie said. Charlie was over against a bulkhead, playing with some toy cars.

"Charlie boy!" Des exclaimed. "Come on over here, give us a hug." Charlie bounced up and ran to his dad's open arms. Des placed the toddler on his knee.

"Get you a coffee?" Penny asked. Desmond nodded as she headed for the deck bar.

"What are we up to this morning?" Desmond asked the boy. "Who have we got here?" he said, looking at one of Charlie's hands. "Ah, 'Lightning McQueen,' is it? You like that wee car the best, don't ya?'

"Aye," Charlie responded. "He's my favorite."

"Well go on then," Desmond said, kissing him on the top of his head. "Give him a good go, yeah?" Charlie jumped down and ran back over to the rest of his cars. Penny returned with a steaming cup of coffee.

"He even talks like you," she said. "He hasn't even been to Scotland and he sounds just like his daddy."

"That's good," Desmond said. "It'll make him a hit with all the ladies."

"You mean the lasses, right?"

"Aye." Desmond took a sip of his coffee. "Although I really wasn't that big of a ladies man myself, was I?

"How'd you sleep?"

"Same," Desmond replied. "I sleep, I dream. I forget. And I know they're bad dreams Pen, but thank God I don't remember them when I wake up. I can tell they're getting worse though."

"Do you want to see someone?"

"What, a doctor? Like a head shrinker? I don't think so, no," Des replied. "They're just dreams. Speaking of doctors, how's the bump on Charlie's head? You sure we shouldn't get that checked out?"

"What bump?" Penny asked. "What are you talking about?"

"The bump," Desmond said. He looked at Charlie, who vroomed one of his cars across the deck over to the breakfast table. It rolled to a stop at Penny's feet. Charlie ran to retrieve it, crawling under the table.

"The bump he got when he hit-"

"OW!" Charlie exclaimed as he stood up and slammed his head into the underside of the table. He fell down screaming loudly, clutching his head. Penny and Desmond both bolted up out of their chairs and attended to their child. He had a small cut on his scalp that started to bleed very slightly as he continued to cry out and scream in pain. Penny pulled a napkin from the table and pressed it to the wound, rocking the boy back and forth to soothe him. She looked up at her husband. Desmond was visibly upset, yet stared off into the middle distance.

"Des?"

**The Island – Present Day**

Hugo Reyes sat alone on a rock atop a high bluff, staring at the ocean. There was a visible peacefulness on his face; a certain glow that only true freedom and happiness can bring. He reached down, grabbed a Mallomar and stuffed it into his mouth. He closed his eyes and relished the flavor before washing down the cookie with a swig of water from an Evian water bottle.

The sea was calm and there was nothing but bright blue water for miles in every direction. Hugo reached for another cookie when he heard a slight rustling coming from the woods behind him. He smiled to himself.

"Hi Charlie," he said. Charlie Pace stepped from the woods and into view. He was wearing jeans, a Drive Shaft tee-shirt and an unzipped hoodie.

"Hey Hurley," he said. "You don't seem surprised to see me."

"I'm surprised," Hugo said. "I'm just not freaked out by it anymore, dude."

"Oh yeah. Now that you're big Island boss, you've got the big picture now. That's cool," Charlie said as he sat down on the rock beside Hugo.

"It's good to see you, Charlie. I'm glad you're here. Mallomar?" Hurley asked, extending the treat to Charlie.

"I don't really eat anymore, Hurley," Charlie said. "Not here anyway."

"Suit yourself," Hurley shrugged.

"Where'd you get the Mallomars?" Charlie asked. "Dharma drop?"

"Nah, we stopped those a while back. No need. Something cool about being in charge here? I can come and go when I please. I can send Ben or anyone else out for supplies if need be."

"Nice," Charlie said.

"Look, Charlie. Like I said., I'm glad you're here. I wanted to tell you something. I'm sorry, man. I'm sorry I didn't go and get your…body from the Looking Glass. I'm not the greatest swimmer, and we've had a lot to do on the Island. I promise I'll get to it. I-"

"Don't worry about it," Charlie cut him off. "I'm not there anymore anyways." Hugo gave Charlie a quizzical look. "And neither is the sodding Looking Glass, really. Flooded. Sunk to the bottom of the ocean. But that jamming equipment isn't going to keep people from zeroing in on this place anymore you know?"

"Oh that's all right," Hurley said. "Ben and I set up new equipment on the Island. We can run it without having to station people underwater."

"Well that's good," Charlie said, "because you still don't want people finding this place. That black smoke thing may be gone and everything is calm, but as long as this place exists, someone will want to get their hands on it. And that, my friend brings me to the reason behind my little visit. Someone's coming Hugo. Coming to the Island."

"I know dude," Hugo said. "It's all right."

"You know?"

"Island guardian stuff," Hugo said. "I can, you know, _feel_ certain things, almost see them happening."

"Just be careful Hurley. It might not be who you think it is. Stay on your guard, okay?"

"I will, Charlie."

"All right then" Charlie said, standing up. "Beautiful day, eh?" he said, looking out at the ocean.

"Yeah, it sure is," Hugo said, standing and looking out to sea. He turned back around to find himself all alone.

**Manchester UK – fifteen years ago**

It was a typical Manchester afternoon. Fierce morning rains had stopped and the afternoon sun peeked through the leftover clouds. The three o'clock dismissal bell sliced through the thick air at Cedar Mount Academy. A campus that moments before was near silent broke out into the raucous sounds of school letting out.

Thea Hobbes, thirteen years of age opened her locker to switch out the books she needed for that evening's homework when she heard a familiar voice.

"Hi Thea," the young man said.

"Hello Charlie," Thea responded. "Missed in you in science today. Sir was not happy."

"I bet he wasn't surprised though. However, this time I'm excused," Charlie said. "Me mum had to take me to the doctor, then the chemist. Bit of a sinus problem. Makin' me sound all stuffed up."

"All better now then?" Thea asked, turning around and slinging her backpack over her shoulder. Charlie nodded. "And that brother of yours? Didn't see hide or hair of him today. He lyin' in ill today as well?"

"You'd have to ask him, T," Charlie replied. "He left for school this mornin.' If you didn't see him, I don't know what to tell ya. Probably off chasin' some bird somewhere."

Thea frowned at this.

"Sounds like Liam," Thea replied. "You two don't walk home together then?"

"Not so much. He's got his mates, I've got mine."

The two of them walked down the hall and out into the courtyard.

"Ah, rain stopped," Charlie said. "Won't be sopping wet when I get home then."

A horn honked from beyond the gate. Thea looked up.

"There's my mum. I've got to go Charlie," she said.

"Me too," he replied. "Got a piano lesson in a bit. See ya tomorrow then, yeah?"

Thea nodded and ran to her mother's car.

"Hi mom," she said closing the passenger door.

"How was school?" her mother asked.

"Same as always," Thea answered. "School."

Her mom pulled the car out into the lane and began the drive home.

"We need to talk about something" she said. "It's about your father."

"Step-father," Thea corrected, half expecting some terse words in return.

"Yes," her mom replied. "Your step-father. He's gone."

"What do you mean gone?" Thea asked, genuinely surprised. "He's dead?"

"No, of course not," mom replied. "He left. Moved out." Thea's mom stared straight ahead while delivering this news.

"Where did he go?"

"I've no idea, nor do I honestly care."

"You two have been fighting a lot lately," Thea said. "Each day, another row."

"Adults have issues, Anthea," her mom replied. Thea hated her full name, and let her mom know this with a scowl and a heavy, exasperated sigh. "We were at it a lot lately yes," mom continued, "but it doesn't matter. We've got some changes coming up, and we need to prepare for them."

"Changes?" Thea queried. "Such as?"

"We're moving, for one," her mother said. "To London. I've been offered a job there that will pay me enough to get us out of the council estates and into a proper home. Better flat, better schools. Better life."

"We're moving to London?"

"Yes," her mom answered. "In one week."

"Brilliant," Thea replied sarcastically, staring out the window, her mind on the few friends she had becoming a thing of the past.

**Aboard "Our Mutual Friend" –present day**

Desmond Hume read to his son Charlie, who was slowly nodding off to sleep. Charlie finally did surrender to fatigue and go down for the night. Desmond quietly turned off the bedside lamp and tiptoed out of the room.

Penelope waited for him in the next cabin over, their bedroom. She looked at the book in his hand.

"Hobbit again, eh?" She said with a smile.

"Aye," Desmond replied. "He never gets tired of it. You know Pen," he said sitting on the bed next to her, "I didn't read this book until I was about ten, and my parents certainly didn't read it as a bedtime story to me when I was three."

"I'm surprised he's not reading it himself, actually," Penny said. "He's very bright. Though I'm sure all parents say that about their kids."

"He is special though, isn't he?" Desmond gave Penny a kiss.

"Just like his daddy," Penny answered. "Which reminds me, how is his daddy? You still getting the headaches…the flashes?"

"Aye. Now and then. I hope you're not gonna start talking about doctors again. I'm not going to a psychiatrist, Pen."

"Now and then," Penny repeated, annoyed. "Right. I do wish you'd be honest with me Des. Do you forget you sleep next to me? I see you struggling every night. It isn't _now and then_. It's getting worse."

"I said I don't want to talk about it, luv," Desmond replied, irritated.

"That's not good enough," Penny said. "If you won't see a doctor, maybe you should do what Ben said. Talk to your friend Hurley. Use the phone he gave you." Desmond shook his head.

"It's only out of respect for Hurley that I didn't throw that damned thing away," Desmond said. "And I think you might be missing something here. I don't have his bloody phone number. So even if I wanted to, I've no way of using—" Desmond's statement was interrupted by the shrill ringing of a phone; the very same cellphone given to him by Ben Linus. Desmond gasped, Penny smiled wide in amazement. The ringing continued.

"Well, look at that," she said. "You need to answer that before it wakes up Charlie."

Desmond sat transfixed, staring at the phone sitting on the sideboard.

"I should've thrown it away," Desmond said.

"If you don't answer it I will," Penny said.

Desmond picked up the phone and hit the answer button.

"Hello," he said. "Well hello brotha," he said smiling a bit. "I didn't expect to hear from you. How've you been?" Desmond nodded a few times as he listened to the caller. "Uh-huh, right." He winced a little, drawing air in through his slightly gritted teeth. "Gee I don't know brotha. That's a lot to ask, isn't it? Can I sleep on it?" He listened to the answer. "Yeah, I know. Of course I will. Give it to me."

Desmond grabbed a pen and jotted down a phone number.

"Yeah, I'll call you by tomorrow, promise. Okay. Bye." He set the phone down.

"Was that Hurley? Or Ben?" Penny asked.

"That was Sawyer," Desmond replied.

"Sawyer," she said. "You've mentioned him."

"You've never met him, Pen. Good guy."

"What did he want?"

Desmond remained silent, staring at the phone.

"Des?" Penny implored.

"He wants…he wants me to take him back to the Island."

Desmond and Penny stood on the deck of the yacht, staring out at the moonlit sea. The night was warm and still.

"Did I ever tell you what your father said to me when he kidnapped me and took me back to that place?"

"You said he needed you to…help the Island. Isn't that what you told me?"

"Aye, he did. But that's not all. He told me wasn't done with me yet_. _Wasn't done with me! I almost killed him. Started beating him with an I.V. stand. I thought he was crazy then, but now I…I'm not sure."

"Well you know how I feel about this," Penny said. "I understand. I really do understand Des. I understand why you wouldn't ever want to set foot there again. But what did Sawyer tell you? The Island was different now? Safe?"

"He doesn't' know. He hasn't even been back there," Desmond responded. "It's what he was told by Hurley and Ben."

"What if my father was right?" Penny asked. "What if the Island isn't done with you?"

"What do you mean?" Desmond asked

"What if the Island isn't done with you? Or what if you're not done with it? What if you need to get back there to stop these visions?"

"I've thought of that. I have. But when's it gonna be done with me, Penny? Will it ever? I could go there and maybe nothing will change."

"That's true, but if there's a chance that going there can help stop the visions and nightmares," she sighed. "Well I think you have to give it a chance."

"That's the other problem," Desmond said. "I promised you Penny. I promised you I would never leave you again. And I meant it. You've been through way too much. _I've put you_ through way too much. I can't do that to you again. I'm not leaving."

"I know," Penny answered. "And I love you for it. So that's why I'm going with you. She rested her head on Desmond's shoulder. "Now let's go back inside so you can make a phone call."

**London UK – 2005**

She couldn't have scripted a gloomier day for a funeral if she tried. A constant steady drizzle, not a hint of sunshine, and temperatures in the mid forties seemed to reinforce the somber mood. Traffic along the motorway seemed unimpressed by the funeral procession, several dark sedans leading the solitary hearse to Highgate Cemetery where the body was committed to the Earth. The vicar seemed like a character out of a Hammer film; elderly, gaunt and pale, rasping out the solemn words with no emotion, as if he indeed had done it hundreds of times.

The reception wasn't much better, although at least it was warm indoors. Dozens of mourners and well-wishers made the trek back to London proper to pay their respects, commiserate with the similarly affected and indulge in the high-class catering. Dressed all in black save for a single white rose pinned just above her left breast, Thea Hobbes greeted those who came to say farewell to her beloved mother.

One after another they filed past, _so very sorry for your loss_ and _she was a great woman_, they said. And it was true. They were and she was. Everyone seemed to have loved Daphne Hobbes. Thea had long ago said her own goodbyes as her mother slowly slipped away from her, but the steady procession of mourners was laying bare wounds she thought were mostly closed. She began to worry that she was going to lose it. Until she saw Derek.

Derek Tillow, the man her mother had married shortly after the death of her father, the man both Daphne and Thea lived with but refused to take the name of, sheepishly approached. He'd aged considerably in the years since he abandoned her and her mother. _Good_, she thought. _I hope he's been miserable._

"Hello Thea," he muttered. He extended a hand which Thea ignored for several seconds before shaking.

"Derek," she said, not wishing to make a scene. Her sorrow was fading, replaced by anger. So at least she had that to be thankful for. "Thank you for stopping by," she added dismissively. Derek got the message, nodded timidly and continued on toward the catering spread. Thea wondered if he'd even been there for the service, or if he only came for the free grub. Not a word from him since the day he left and he shows up now? She didn't know whether to be insulted or simply glad that he'd stayed away. She didn't have long to think about it as the line of those paying respects continued.

"Ms. Hobbes," said a man she did not recognize. "I'm terribly sorry for your loss."

"Thank you very much," she replied, wondering who he was. In fact, she wondered who almost half of these people were. "How did you know my mother?"

"I was her attorney," he replied. "Burton Sharp."

"Oh," she answered. "Well, thank you for coming."

"If I could have one brief moment of your time," he added, "I came to pay my respects, but I also am here on business. Were you aware that your mother had a last will and testament?"

"I was not, Mr. Sharp, no" Thea answered.

"I would like to go over it with you, so you can see what she wanted done with her estate," he said handing her a business card. "Please give my office a call at your convenience. And again, I'm truly sorry. Your mother was a wonderful woman."

He walked away, forgoing the buffet and walking out into the rain. Thea stared at the business card for a moment before regarding the next person in line.

Thea Hobbes sat at a rather ornate table in a fastidiously designed conference room in the law offices of Pamplin, Merchant and Sharp. Seated to her left was the man who had introduced himself as Burton Sharp. He smiled and pulled some paperwork from a leather attaché.

"Can I get you anything to do drink before we begin?" He asked with a smile.

"No thank you," Thea responded.

"Okay," he said. "Your mother left specific directives for the disposition of her estate, Ms. Hobbes. Included in this, I am to extend to you my legal counsel going forward, free of charge should you need assistance with the estate."

"I'm not sure I understand," Thea said. "What sort of assistance would I need? My mother and I lived in a little flat in Central London. She did paperwork in an appraiser's office. What estate?"

"It's actually quite considerable," Sharp continued.

"Really," Thea said flatly.

"Indeed," he said. "And you are the sole heir, the sole recipient."

"So I get what, her jewelry? It can't have been worth that much. As I said, secretary in a realtor's office."

"There is jewelry, yes," Sharp said. "But the reason she provided you with our firm's legal assistance was for the other assets in her estate."

Thea stared at him, non-plussed.

"Ms. Hobbes," Sharp said, leaning forward. "Your mother left you her entire estate, including a cash and stock portfolio valued at over eighty million pounds."

Thea leaned back in her chair, staring wildly at Burton Sharp.

"Excuse me?" She said. "Eighty million pounds?"

"A bit more, but yes that's correct." Thea wringed her hands and looked around the room. She let out a deep breath.

"Uh," she said. "I think I would like something to drink after all."

**Los Angeles – present day**

The doorbell rang and Carole Littleton opened the door to greet the visitors. There were six in all; four adults and two children.

"Hello," she said. "We've been expecting you. I'm Carole, Claire's mum. Please, come in," she said, standing aside to allow the visitors into the house. She directed them all to the living room, where Claire Littleton and Kate Austen sat on a sofa. The two of them stood.

"I'll make some iced tea," said Carole as she headed to the kitchen.

"Desmond, Penny," said Kate. "Long time no see." She turned her eyes to James Ford. "James," she said with a smile. Kate teared up a little as she gave James a very big hug.

"Kate," James said. "Uh, this is Rachel Carlson, Juliet's sister." The two ladies shook hands.

"Very nice to meet you," Kate said.

"You too," Rachel said.

Claire stood and gave Desmond a hug, shook Penny's hand and then followed suit with hugs and introductions with James and Rachel.

"Sawyer," Claire said. "I didn't know if I'd ever see you again."

"Claire," James said.

"Sawyer?" Rachel asked, puzzled.

"Long story," James said. "Kind of a nickname I guess. I've been known to sling a few here and there. Ain't that right, Freckles?"

"For a while I wasn't sure he knew anyone's real name," Kate said.

"And who are these two handsome young men?" Claire asked?

"Ah yes," Desmond said. "Claire, Kate, this is our son Charlie." Desmond leaned down and put his hands on Charlie's shoulders and whispered. "Say hello Charlie."

"Hello," the young boy said.

"Hello there," Claire said smiling.

"Hi sweetheart," said Kate.

"And this," said Rachel, "is my son Julian."

"Hi," Julian said, needing no prodding.

"Hello Julian," Claire said. "Why don't you two boys come with me to meet Aaron? You all can play together while the grown-ups talk, all right?" Charlie looked at his parents for approval.

"It's okay Charlie," Penny said. "Go with Claire. Mummy and daddy will be right here."

Claire took the boys down the hall. Carole returned with a tray of glasses of iced tea. Everyone sat down. Carole left to join Claire.

"So," Kate said to James. "You're going back." She shook her head. "I can't believe it."

"Yep. Kind of hard for me to believe sometimes too," he said.

"And you too Desmond?" Kate said. "Why?"

"It's a long story Kate," Desmond said. "You're welcome to come along, you know."

"Let me ask you this," Kate said. "Is Jack Shephard there? Alive? Because that is the only reason on Earth I would _ever_ go back," she said, trying to hide the anger in her voice.

"I understand," Desmond said. "Look Kate, we appreciate you watching the boys for us. I promise this will be a very quick trip. Be back before you know it."

"Yes thank you," Rachel said. "I could have gotten a sitter for Julian, but James vouches for you and the Littletons." Kate softened.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to be so harsh. I know I'm not the only one who lost someone they loved on that island. Please forgive my rudeness. And of course Julian and Charlie are welcome to stay as long as you need." Claire returned to the living room and sat down.

"They boys seem to be getting along quite well," she said. "What did I miss?"

"Not much," James said. "How are you doin' Claire? You look great, by the way."

"Thank you," she said. "I feel good. Thanks to Kate and my mum, I'm more myself every day. And I think the longer I'm away from the Island, the less I feel the effects of it."

"The _time traveling_ Island," Rachel said. "I still don't know how much of this I accept."

"Again, I'm sorry," Kate said. "Some terrible things did happen there, as you know. But we also all made some amazing friends, and it wasn't all bad times, was it?" She turned to James as she said this.

"No. Not all bad," he said. "But bad enough. That's all supposedly in the past," he said. "Hugo is running the show now. Said the place even _feels_ different."

"I guess not having a giant smoke monster flying around killing people anymore will change the atmosphere of a place, yeah?" Desmond said, with a nervous laugh. Rachel looked at him, eyebrows raised. She looked at James questioningly.

"Yeah," he said to her. "Time travel might not have been the weirdest part of it."

"How are you going to get there?" Claire asked. "The Island's not particularly easy to find. Usually it's by accident." She paused. "Terrible accident."

"Hugo has given us a bearing," Desmond said. "We've got Penny's boat, the one she found us with, docked in Santa Monica harbor. Should be pretty easy to get there, this time."

"Nothing about that place has ever been easy," Kate said.

**Santa Monica harbor – present day**

Clear skies greeted the passengers as they boarded The Searcher, moored in a slip at the harbor in Santa Monica. Penelope didn't use the ship that much anymore, and in fact had thought of selling her once she had found what she had been searching for; Desmond Hume. The thought of using The Searcher to seek him out again had crossed her mind when he had been kidnapped by her father, but she had a toddler to care for, and as much as she desperately wanted to find Desmond again, raising Charlie in a safe environment took precedence.

But she never did sell the ship. It felt like something was telling her to hang on to her. So she docked her and paid a company to maintain her should she ever feel like taking her out to sea again. She thought about hiring the same international crew she'd used last time aboard, but it proved to be unnecessary. The ship was crewed this time by a group of three: Jill Heidegger, Gabriel Dalton and Jeffrey Pauling. They had contacted her and Desmond, saying they had been hired by Ben. Their story checked out, and in addition to crewing the ship, they would provide security and protection on the Island.

It was midday when Desmond, Penelope, James, Rachel and the crew boarded the Searcher. They stowed their gear, went through a short safety drill led by Gabriel, who would be at the helm for most of the journey, and headed off on the ninety-six foot, two-hundred and thirty ton beauty. The Searcher had its own power generators, its own sewage treatment plant and a desalinator for making fresh water. Fully loaded, she was designed to go for weeks without the need to refuel or take on water or supplies. All aboard hoped such extraordinary features would not be needed.

The harbor was very busy that day. Big ships of nearly every conceivable configuration were taking to sea, along with smaller short range craft and even human powered individual boats for patrolling the breakwater protected harbor. The Searcher trawled slowly through the harbor, making its way to the open ocean.

Penny led Desmond, James and Rachel to some chairs on the top deck, where they could sit and look out to sea.

"Never thought I'd be here again, Pen," Desmond said.

"This is a really lovely ship," Rachel said, taking a chair next to James. "What are you guys, rich or something?"

"We do all right," Penny answered. "My father was extremely wealthy, and one of the very few things he taught me was the power of investing."

"Well it's a hell of a yacht," James said. "Nice day too. I hate to be a broken record, but Rachel, I'll ask for the last time. Are you sure you want to go through with this?" Rachel simply stared back at him in silence. "Okay," James said.

"How long will it take to get there?" Penny asked.

"I think it'd be at least a week at pretty much full speed Pen," Desmond said. "But according to Hugo, we should be there in about a day and a half. Not sure how that works."

"I'd just take the man at his word, Des," James said. "This ain't like sailing to Hawaii."

"How far is the Island?" Rachel asked.

"Right now," Desmond said, "it's probably about five thousand miles. Or maybe four thousand."

"Right now?"

"Aye," Desmond answered. "You didn't tell her, Brotha? The Island moves, luv. It's never in the same place for long."

"Then it's not an Island," she said.

"How's that now?" Desmond asked.

"Islands are just mountaintops that stick out of the sea. They can't move."

"They can't travel through time either," James said.

"Okay," Rachel said with a slight smile. "It's a magic island. Then how can we go four or five thousand miles in thirty-six hours?"

James, Desmond and even Penelope just looked at her with a blank stare.

"Magic island?"

They all nodded nodded.

"Well," James said, standing up, "seeing as we're gonna be here for a while, you got any beer on this beast?"

"Aye," Desmond said. "And that's not all." Desmond got up and headed into the cabin. He returned a minute or so later with a cart. The cart had a bucket of ice and glasses on top. He rolled the cart to a stop in front of Penny and opened the two small doors on the front.

"We've got beer, wine, the usual spirits…and somethin' else, if you'd care to join me brotha," Desmond said to James. He pulled out a bottle of MacCutcheon whisky and broke the seal.

"Now yer talkin'," James said.

"Courtesy of the private reserves of one Charles Widmore," Desmond said.

Penny grabbed a bottle of wine and looked at Rachel questioningly. Rachel shook her head, then nodded in the guys' direction.

"Make it four," she told Desmond.

The four of them sat enjoying their whisky and stared off ahead into the distance. At least three of them knew it could be the last time they would feel so relaxed. The commotion of the harbor was easing as each ship on the water that day seemed to be heading in a different direction, towards its own destination. The vastness of the Pacific stretched out ahead.

Behind them, a good ways back and still proceeding at barely above idling speed was a ship similar in many ways to the Searcher. Sshe passed the "no wake" line of the harbor and increased her speed. At the bridge of the powerful yacht named Vendetta, stood a solitary figure, staring through a pair of high-powered binoculars pointed at the Searcher. The figure lowered the binoculars and let out a satisfied sigh.

"Perfect," said Thea Hobbes.


End file.
